Monthly Archives: April 2012

Kreativ Blogger Award

Posted on April 30, 2012 by Life and all things love

It just hit me, that I would be awful at giving acceptance speeches. I mean really, really awful.  For some reason, I picture the Academy Awards. I am on a perfectly curved stage with me in the dead center of the bend.  A procession of lights illuminate my frame and face, casting ghostly shadows on the stage behind me.  Everyone is dead pan, silent.  All eyes are fixed on me.  Some look on with delight, others with discontent. I am alone and frightened. My knees knock and my hands tremor, and all I can muster is a very weak smile. I open my mouth forming a perfect circle, ready to speak, words on the tip of my tongue, but nothing comes forth.  I stammer. I stutter. I spit, but not a single coherent sentence. All the eyes begin to look at me in disbelief, some mixed with pure pity, others with disgust. I begin to apologize.  I begin to tear up.  I run off the stage, tripping over my obscenely long, dress and fall flat on my face, in front of, hundreds of, millions of, people.   Then I die!

Told you, I am horrible at acceptance speeches or any speech, for that matter. I must give one, however, because I am incredibly humbled and honored that a blogger that I adoringly follow, Alenaslife, nominated me for this prestigious award. Alena puts the A in Awesome. Her Blog is about one of my very favorite things, Books, and her reviews can not be rivaled.  So, thank you, Alena from the very bottom of my ginormous heart.

To fill the requirements for this award, I have to write 7 things you may find interesting about Me. I am already drawing a blank. Can not think of one single interesting thing about myself…hold on…let me think….Oh Dear…Alright..These may be interesting:

  1. I am petrified of the dark. I have been since birth. Pssh…I have a nightlight.
  2. I like to go to the movies by my single, solitary, self. No small talk and I can sit wherever I want.
  3. My social skills leave a lot to be desired.  My daughter comes by her shy, awkwardness honestly, directly from her mother’s gene pool. Do you know how hard it is to alter DNA?
  4. I love to laugh!  I mean belly-jiggling, ear to ear grinning, and pee in your panties, laughing!  I LUV it!  Can’t get enough of it!
  5. I am a recovering hypochondriac. I have had almost every illness known to man, and I am still alive. My diagnoses existed in my head only. Turns out, I just needed a hobby.
  6. I HATE Chocolate Ice Cream! I don’t like the way it looks, the way it smells, and especially the way it tastes! Yuck. Anything else that’s Chocolate, I generally love.
  7. I am horrible at Grammar. This one is no surprise if you follow my blog. I had some amazing English Teachers but for some reason I still struggle with placing comma’s appropriately, punctuating sentences properly, and my voice always tends to be passive, whatever that means!  Does everything have to be perfect?  Can’t a girl just write for Pete’s sake!

And now, I must nominate seven other spectacular blogs for the Kreativ Blogger Award.  Drum roll please…And they are in no particular order:

  1. Truthandcake because I love the truth and I love cake without the frosting.  Her blog is so chic and her posts are so thought-provoking and beautifully written that I have a serious case of blog envy.  She turns me green, bright Green!
  2. At Home with Mrs. Hampton. She is a teacher with a glue gun and she knows how to use it. ; She is so crafty my thumbs hurt while reading her posts! Yeah, she’s that good! I just wish she would do a post on exactly how to replicate that wonderful Header of hers!
  3. Her New Leaf.  Until she was recently freshly pressed I had no idea exactly what all I could do with Instagram. She is full of helpful information and did I mention she gives you step by step images. Yeah!  She is a must in the blogger tool box.
  4. iGameMom.  This gal has all the low down on all the newest and coolest apps.  Apple should send her a big fat check, and I am going to need a second job if I keep buying every single app she recommends.
  5. The Oven Mitt. This gal is a baker from way back! Cookies, Cupcakes, Whole Cakes, Oh My! Her recipes and pictures make my soul sing and my belly rumble. Yum!
  6. I’ve become my parents because I can relate. I sound so much like my parents, sometimes, I think I’m a Body Snatcher or it’s Freaky Friday or I’m getting old.  Really Old. Anyway, you must check out his blog, because it is ridiculously funny and so, oh, true!  I promise you will laugh and laugh out loud.
  7. Simply Solo because she is single, but way more complex than simple. She gets honest and deep.  She has tons of relationship advice on her blog from breaking up to cancelling a wedding and did I mention how refreshing this gal can be.  She’s open and REAL and if I ever find myself single (I pray to God that I won’t not because being single is bad but because I LOVE my husband) I will know where to go for advice!

I’m going to follow everyone else’s lead and pass along the rules for those nominated:

  1. Copy the Kreativ Blogger Award logo and place it in your post.
  2. Thank the person who nominated you and link back to their blog. It would be rude if you didn’t. Seriously.
  3. List 7 things about you that people might find interesting. (I’m glad it says might because will find interesting could be hard for some of us).
  4. Nominate 7 other bloggers for their own Kreativ Blogger Award.
  5. Leave a Comment on the blogs you nominate to let them know about the award.

Thanks Elena, my virtual Bestie!  You have made my weekend a little extra special :)

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , | 7 Comments

The Mommy I’d hope to be

Posted on April 27, 2012 by Life and all things love

Four years of college, 6 months of work with no pay, and one horrendous test later, I became an Occupational Therapist with little to no experience. My first job and only full-time job has been in long-term care (AKA nursing home, retirement home, old folk’s home, skilled nursing facility or Shady Pines just to name a few). I had not been working in LTC less than six months when a friend of mine suggested, nicely of course, that a woman of my age may enjoy working with children better than emancipated, wrinkly, old people.

At first, I was just a little taken a back. Then after some further contemplation, I had most definitely been rubbed the wrong way. I enjoyed working with the elderly and I had a million reasons why to prove it. For starters, they have a lifetime of stories to share; lessons learned the hard way, regrets they hope to amend, and choices they were glad they made. They offer advice and criticism freely. They do not care, one single iota, to tell you EXACTLY what they think. “I don’t like your hair color. You’re too skinny! You’re too fat! You look pale! You need more sun! Do you think what you’re wearing really matches?”. They also have their chiseled in stone, never going to change for no one and don’t even try ways. “No, I am not getting rid of my throw rugs! So, what if I trip over them and break my neck, They are not leaving this house! No, I am not installing bars in my bathtub! Who needs bars in a bathtub, now don’t ask me again. No, I am not waiting on someone to take me to pee. So, what if I only have one good leg and have to crawl on the floor to get there, I am not waiting on anyone to take me to pee!”. Yep, that’s only a few of the many reasons why I dearly love working in long-term care. Now, here is why I have refused to work with children.

Don’t get me wrong, I love children! I have two myself, but let me tell you about the moment I knew I never wanted to work with the little creatures. I was completing some mandatory observation hours in the school system when for the first time in my small existence, I saw children that had Autism. Before you mind begins to go haywire and think all sorts of bad thoughts let me finish. The first little boy I saw with the diagnosis looked like any other child. He had a blonde crop cut, bright blue eyes, and a mouth on fire. The words that flew from his mouth would have made the devil himself blush. Seriously! I LOVED this little boy. I loved his energy. Then the therapist I was with began to tell me about this little boy’s struggles. He had a multitude of sensory issues. He rocked, he spinned, and he hummed. He was incredibly loud, but very far away socially. He did not make eye contact nor did he acknowledge the presence of anyone else. He was there, but he wasn’t. I loved him regardless.

The therapist went on about interventions they had tried; sensory diets, vests, communication boards, behavior modification, medication, lah, lah, lah, lah! All of these treatments and little gains. The more I saw this little boy, and children like him, the more my frustration rose. It seemed like the medical community as a whole was as lost as an Easter Egg on how to treat these precious little individuals. We still don’t know what causes it. It takes a year or longer to get a true diagnosis, and then we have to choose from a very varied smorgess board of treatment options only hoping that something will work at some point. We will not even get into the whole vaccine debate or the so-called cures for Autism.

If I thought Autism was frustrating as a trained clinician I can not even begin to fathom the magnitude of frustration the parents of these children deal with daily. The costs of extensive therapy, the sleepless days and nights, the endless criticism, not knowing what to do, not knowing where to turn, and feeling as lost as the child they pray to save.

I often wonder how would I deal with a child that has an Autism Spectrum Disorder. We know I copped out as a therapist (but I did follow my passion as well). I chose to treat individuals that had physical disabilities, for the most part, because usually you can see progress immediately. You have structured protocols to follow that are pretty much tailored to everyone, and they work for almost everyone that has the same disability. Pretty simple, right? I just hope that if any of my children are ever afflicted with a disability or illness of any kind that I will choose to fight with both fists raised high, full throttle, no holds bars, here I come ready or not, kind of fighting. I hope and pray that I would be just like this AMAZING, Woman and Mother!

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Just Call Me Eve…

Posted on April 27, 2012 by Life and all things love

If you stay over night at my house, and you hear a lot of commotion coming from the kitchen, around say four in the morning, do not be alarmed. Do not call 911! It’s just me, looking for chocolate. I ravage the cabinetry and the pantry searching for a Hershey’s white chocolate bliss or a Godiva chocolate truffle drizzled in caramel. Oh, my mouth waters just thinking about the sinfully, delicious, treats. I am worse than a heroin addict in desperate need of a fix, only my drug of choice is legal and fattening. It’s true. I am an addict!

If you would have told me five years ago, that I would transform into a sleepless, chocolate-seeking mommy, I would have screamed at the top of my lungs, “Blasphemy! Liar! Liar!”. I’ve never been a sweet treats kind of girl. I never ate cake, except at birthdays, and even then I would leave the frosting. I never made friends with little Debbie or the Hostess with the Mostess. I just never wanted sweets. Never craved them, until now.

My taste buds started to change after I had children. My kids have truly added so much to my life including 15 extra pounds to my thighs and hinny, why couldn’t it all went to my bust instead. The worst part lies with Victoria, she’s not going to keep my secret any longer. My comfy, thigh-hugging and belly-button touching granny panties are now thongs. Yes, thongs! Oh Dear! So, I made a conscious decision to drop what I had gained, not the children just the extra weight. The very moment this thought entered my mind, my taste buds began to rebel. “We want melt in your mouth, not on your tongue, chocolate! We want steak trimmed in juicy fat! We want fettucini smothered in creamy alfredo sauce! We want deep dish pizza buried with pepperoni’s and extra, extra, cheese! For the love of God, we want all this and more, now!”, my taste buds roared, in perfectly timed unison.

I don’t understand why! Why the minute, we humans decide something should be off limits, we begin to think about erasing the boundary lines, almost simultaneously. Why do we hunger most after those things that are forbidden and should be forsaken. Why? Why? Why, I ask?

I know we are made to crave, Lysa Terkeurst! I know that, but why couldn’t we have been made to crave things that are good for our well-being like Broccoli & Cauliflower, Brussel sprouts, Kale and Salmon. Pardon me while I go puke and have a “I relate to Eve” moment.

I blame Eve, the real first lady, for numerous things. Starting with my subordinace to the male species, my 24 hours total of anguish childbirth, and of course, my pure, palpable desire for anything forbidden and sinful. Yes, thank you, Mother Eve!20120426-135946.jpg

Our appetite for the verboten all began with one, luscious, piece of fruit. I know, if you are a familiar with The Holy Bible, than you know the sins of Eve. If not, here’s a brief synopsis. Adam and Eve are in placed in the Garden of Eden, and they can eat from any tree that inhabits the Garden, except from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, per God, their creator. We all know what happens next, the serpent seduces Eve encouraging her to eat from the tree, she gives it some thought, and then digs right in. She hands the fruit over to Adam, and he follows her lead, and digs right in. The serpent is happy, and Adam and Eve our doomed. Eve blames the serpent, when questioned by God, and Adam blames Eve, of course! They are both responsible for the fall of all mankind (Eve more so than Adam) and ultimately sentenced to die. As a result of their crimes, not only will they waltz thru the valley of the shadow of death, but eve’s sorrow’s will be multiplied in childbirth and man will always rule over her. Adam is sentenced to a hard live of physical labor, and the serpent loses his creepy legs forcing him to crawl on his slimy, scaly, belly. The End, literally!

Despite the resentment, I sometimes harbour toward Eve (she gave all women a bad name right from the start)I can truly relate to her struggle with good and evil. I’m sure we all can. If it had been me in the lush, Garden of Eden with Adam, I doubt my actions would have been any different than Eve’s. All I need is a little goading and I’ll eat a whole bushel of apples, spoiling me rotten from the inside out. Believe it or not, I even have a serpent that follows me everywhere I go, cheering me on. He follows me to the grocery, twisting his slinky body around the handle bar on the cart, “Hmm, a quart of Hagaan Dazs ice cream would be just delightful. Go ahead treat yourself, you deserve it after all!”, he hisses. He nests in the floorboard of my car, an interwoven coil, “Yum, a Big Mac with no lettuce, no pickles would be oh so good! When’s the last time you had a Big Mac, anyway?”, he prods. He slithers along my kitchen counter, wrapping himself around the candy bowl,”Oh My, there is only one Reece’s peanut buttercup left. Go ahead take it, just one won’t hurt!”, he pleads.

I am no better than Eve. Most days I believe the serpent’s lies and give into his temptations. Oh, how I wish I was stronger! Oh, how I wish I possessed an abundance of will power and carried more self-control than a nun in a convent. I long to silence the serpent, but I can’t. He is a part of me…

Does this mean I am a hopeless case? No! Does this mean I am predestined for pants with elastic waist bands only. No! I may not be able to silence the serpent but I can learn to tune him OUT! I can ignore the lies that drip from his forked tongue like water dripping from a leaky faucet. To me, the serpent mostly resembles an oversized fifth-grade bully. If you bend beneath the weight of his torture and your actions reveal that he’s gotten underneath your skin, then he will most likely continue to torment you. However, if you continue to ignore his rantings and display no signs of irritation or panic, he will most likely lose interest in you and move onto some other poor soul. I plan to put this theory to test and just hopefully I will be successful in constricting his vocal chords. Wish me luck and weight loss, please!

Categories: Life | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Lying Mothers & Caring Teachers

Posted on April 21, 2012 by Life and all things love

This past August brought an array of firsts for my profoundly, shy and irreversibly, backwards four-year-old daughter, Lauryn. She had never spent the day outside of our home with people she did not know. She had never ate a meal with a hundred different faces. She never relied on anyone other than a family member to take her to the little girl’s room, to wipe her nose, or dry her tears. She never had to go to school before until August.

I’ve been told that like adults, all children react to change differently. Some children open their arms wide and embrace it. Others throw themselves on the floor, kick, scream, cry and howl in protest to the turn of the scale. My daughter was the perfect example of the latter.

I tried to prepare her for the transition. I enrolled her into gymnastics hoping to strengthen her social skills, and to learn to adapt to taking orders from someone else other than her mother. I painted dazzling, grand pictures of how school would be for her. “Oh, Lauryn, you will have a fabulous time! You will get to be with a ton of kids your age. You will get to play with play-doh, cut with scissors, build with big blocks, and did I mention there would be boys there! Oh, My! I wish I could go, Lauryn! Skylyr will be so jealous because he can’t go.”. Her big blue eyes would drop to the floor, and her head would turn, blonde hair whipping around her face. No smiles, no thrills, and zero excitement.

Unfortunately, for us both, nothing worked. Lauryn looked forward to school like most people look forward to a root canal. We couldn’t even talk about school without evoking a meltdown. “Mommy, why do I have to go? Don’t you love me anymore? Will I have to stay there forever? Whose going to pick me up? Will you pick me up early?”. Dear, sweet, Jesus where did I go wrong? Why does my daughter insist I’m going to abandon her? When have I ever left her? Oh wait! I leave her for eight hours a day, to work, to pay the bills. I should never leave her. What was I thinking? I should have been a stay at home mom and maybe my daughter would not have abandonment issues! This is all my fault! ALL-MY-FAULT!

You know where this is going, when all else fails, girls go shopping! Against my better judgement, I let her pick out her school clothes, just add it to my long list of Mommy transgressions. She was attracted to glitter, sequins, tutu skirts and funky tights. I began to see a small glimmer of hope, sparkling among the glitz, floating thru all the frills. She seemed excited! She really, truly did! Only if it would have lasted longer than my buyer’s remorse. By the time we got home, her excitement had been put away with the new clothes hanging in her closet with the tags still dangling, never to be seen again.

Much to my dismay, we finally awoke to Lauryn’s first day of school. Thus far, it has been the worst day of my motherhood. It was made from the same cloth as nightmares and terrors. The second I told her she was going to school, she let out a bloodcurdling cry that made the hair on my arms standup. It took me a hour to get her calmed down, snap a picture with a fake smile, and get her into the car. She cried the entire ride there. I was an executioner and she was the prisoner being lead to her imminent death.20120421-195355.jpg

We pulled into the parking lot and I had to pry her from her booster seat. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her long, scrawny, legs around my waist, and buried her sweet face into my neck. My resolve got weaker by the minute. Every fiber in my being was screaming, “Put her back in the car and get out while you still can! Don’t do this to her! She’s still a baby!”. My head told me,”Keep moving. Hold it in! Don’t cry! She’ll be fine after you leave. She needs this! She REALLY needs this!”. I would have listened to my heart, and went home, if my husband had not accompanied us.

I would say he was there for moral support, but looking back now, I know he was there to keep us straight, to stick to the plan. We had intended to drop and run. Didn’t work. We couldn’t leave her in the state she was in. We then decided, for me to hang around a while, until she eased into her new surroundings, then I would hit the road. Didn’t happen either. The longer I stuck around, the longer the hysteria remained. “Mommy, please, PLEASE, don’t leave me here. I want to go home! I want to stay with Mamaw and Skylyr like I always have. Please, Mommy!”. My heart broke and busted. I can promise you there are still pieces of my heart, stuck in the grout of the elementary school tile, never to be rectified.

Oh, I was in distress! What would a good mother do in this situation? Does she do what her child wants, or does she do what her child needs? I channeled June Clever and went with what they need! I knew Lauryn needed to stay and I needed to leave. I just didn’t know how I was going to do it.

I was seriously planning my escape, when a mother of another hysterical child, distracted her son, and wormed her way out the door. It took the little boy a whopping five seconds to figure out that his mother had ditched him. He looked at me, eyes wide and distraught, and his face as red as his hair. “Where’s my mommy? Did she leave me? She promised me she wouldn’t leave!”. Why did I have to be the closiest adult to this child? I can’t take this! He began to scream and cry frantically, “My mommy lied to me! She lied! She lied! I want my Mommy!”. I began to take mental notes. Do not attempt duck and run tactics with small children. They will never trust you, ever! This, however did not suppress the overwheming urge I had to scoop him up in my arms, and lie to him like a big, stinky, wet, dog like his momma had. “Baby, your Mommy didn’t lie to you. She’ll be right back. She just went to the bathroom.”. Oh, how easy it would have been on me, and how hard it would have been on him, when he realized I had lied as well. Would he ever believe anything that spews from an adult’s mouth?

I didn’t do anything for the little, red-headed boy other than feel so sorry for him. I couldn’t. My daughter’s nails were embedded in my wrists and her bottom was bonded to my lap. The harder the little boy cried the harder she cried. She knew I was leaving. I signaled the teacher and she came over. The aide extracted Lauryn from my lap. I watched as Lauryn tried to fight her way lose, arms flaying and legs kicking . Tears rolling down her face, begging and pleading with me not to leave her. All I could do was tell her that I loved her and I would be back to pick her up. I ran out the door, tears rolling down my face now. When I opened my car door in the parking lot, I could still hear her screams. I am an awful mother! I will never forget this day as long as I live. Ugh!

I wish I could say the next day was better, but it wasn’t. I wish I could say the next week, and the week after that was better, but it wasn’t. It was like the first day if school, everyday, for the first three months of school. I cried. I worried. I stressed. I threatened to pull her out if the next day wasn’t better, but eventually she had a good day. Eventually she had a good week. Then eventually she had a decent month. If it had not been for the Holy Trinity and an amazing teacher, Ms. Brenda and her aide, Ms. Charity, I would have surrendered and Lauryn would have happily quit.

Lauryn took to her teacher, Ms. Brenda, like butter sticks to your thighs. Ms. Brenda was patient and nurturing. She was understanding and stern at exactly all the right times. She was perfect for Lauryn and if it had not been for her, Lauren would not be graduating from preschool this May. I am so grateful for her and feel that I will always be in debited to her! Next year, Lauryn will start Kindergarten, and she will get a new teacher, and a new set of challenges, but neither of us will ever forget Ms. Brenda and Ms. Charity. We will forever be thankful!

Categories: Life | Tags: , , , , , | 6 Comments

Has Anyone Seen My Baby?

Posted on April 16, 2012 by Life and all things love

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Sometimes, I can see my little boy running toward me and I almost lose my breath. I’m completely bewildered at how fast he has grown. Just yesterday, I could swaddle his tiny body in a blanket, cradle him in my arms, and shower his chubby cheeks with kisses. I loved the sweet smell of milk on his breath, the way his whole hand would curl around one of my fingers, and I fell in love a thousand times a day with each new face he made. I was in awe of the life my husband and I had created so much so that I couldn’t bare to put him down.

I could not even begin to count the times someone would say to me, “Put that baby down before you spoil him. You’ll never be able to get anything done.”
Maybe they were right, because I did not get much of anything done, but I do not regret, for one single second, all the times I held him in my arms. There are days were I would clean my house from top to bottom with a toothbrush and a bar of soap, do five thousand loads of laundry, and press a million button up shirts, to have my son three months old again, just for a day.

I blinked, and now he is two. His legs are too long and scrawny for his body and splattered with bruises. When he runs, he always falls. When he talks, you know he’s from the south. His accent is so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. His smile stretches from one ear to the other and would melt any heart of stone, and I still want to hold him. He just doesn’t stay in one place long enough for me to catch him.

I know I’ll blink again, and he’ll start kindergarten. I’ll blink again, and he will be a teenager behind the wheel of a car. I’ll blink again, and he’ll be in a cap and gown accepting his high school diploma. I know in my heart of hearts, I can feel it in my soul, that regardless of how old he gets or how many people tell me to let him go, my arms will always long to hold him. I am his mother and he will always be my baby!

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Categories: Life, Mommy Tales | Tags: , , , , , | 4 Comments

Breaking Bad Habits

Posted on April 14, 2012 by Life and all things love

I’ve formed a habit that most would consider bad. Undesirable! Ugly! When I started this routine, I assumed it would only be temporary. It would only be something to get me over the proverbial hump, and then life would carry on as regularly scheduled, wrong!

All my adult life, I have tried to only form habits that produce good outcomes. I do not bite my nails. I don’t twist my hair or wring my hands. I do not swear, drink or smoke habitually. Then I had children. I tried desperately to still uphold the mantra, “Don’t start anything, you do not want to keep up.”. Ha! Ha! Like everything else that applies before you became a parent, doesn’t apply after.

When I was pregnant with our firstborn, my husband and I, decided that no matter what, our children would not share our bed. We did a good job with this commitment in the beginning. If my daughter awoke a dozen times a night, I would stumble like a drunk woman to her nursery, pick her up, nurse her back to sleep, and put her back to bed. This process carried on all night long. I was tired, exhausted, and spent. I had bags under my eyes the size of carry on suitcases. My skin was pasty and pale. My hair rarely brushed, wild and untamed. My body kicked into survival mode only. All i could think about was sleep, my bed, my mattress, my 500 thread count cotton egyptian sheets. Sleep. Sleep. I feigned it like an alcoholic craving a cold, stiff, drink, but I did not cave. Lauryn eventually began to sleep thru the night in her bed and me in mine. Then baby number 2 entered the picture.

If I thought keeping the “no babies in our bed” commitment was hard with one, it was almost dang near impossible with two. No one fell asleep at the same time and no one got up at the same time. The sleeping regimen at my house went a little something like this: 9:30 pm toddler asleep, 9:50pm baby asleep, 11:00pm toddler awake, 11:23 pm toddler back to sleep, 12:15 am baby awake, 12:46 am baby asleep and it pretty much continued like that all night into the morning. I could have been the lead zombie in “The Walking Dead.”

As you can imagine, I gave up and I gave in. They fell asleep in my bed, then I moved them into their respective beds, and sometime by the break of dawn they were back in my bed. This worked out well until the toddler outgrew her crib and the baby needed a crib. We decided to put them in a full-sized bed together, and so the bad habit began.

I lay down between them, read a book, and then we all fall asleep. The plan was for me sneak out of their bed and into mine once they were out. I rarely make it to my bed these days. I have my little Skylyr on one side, rubbing my face, and my Lauryn, on the other side, laying across my chest. I am warm. I am cozy and comfortable. I am asleep before the lights ever go out.

My husband asked me if I could go to Fantasy World for him. You can guess what type of products they sell by the name. He wants one of those inflatable girls, so when he wakes up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, he will have something to wrap his arms around. I told him that could be arranged, but I know, deep down, I must break my bad habit.

I imagine all the old hags at The American Academy of Pediatrics, shaking their gray heads in disbelief, faces wrinkled and pinched with disgust. “No good will come from bed-sharing. Your children will have dependency issues that will linger well into adulthood and will cost them thousands of dollars in psychotherapy to rectify. Your marriage will be doomed. Your husband will feel neglected and be easily swayed by a much younger and attractive young woman. He will most likely leave you for a nineteen year old blonde bombshell with perky breasts, tanned legs, and absolutely no cellulite. You will end up divorced and alone, bed sharing with your two children, and no man from here to Indonesia will find you fascinating. Do you understand?”. “Yes, old hags, I do! I really do!”.

For the sake of my marriage, and for the sake of my children’s mental health, I will attempt to break the bed sharing habit. I will pry my eyes open with quarters, drink a gallon of coffee, pop no doze like candy, and whatever else it may take, to stay awake and make my way, back to my bed at night. I ask you to wish me luck and keep your fingers and toes crossed. Any pointers you may have to kicking this habit the right way, would be much appreciated. Thank you!

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Categories: Mommy Tales | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

Spring Forward or Fall Back

Posted on April 12, 2012 by Life and all things love

My son has ended his affair with, “The Tease”, March and has now moved onto the lovely, April. I can’t say I blame him. How could you not fall in love with April? She is bursting with life and everything breathtaking, beautiful. To be quite frank, she has even stole my heart a time or two.

Like my son, I marvel at how quickly Mother Nature can take you from Blah to Shazam! The earth is ripe with opportunity. The sod beckons me, “Come. Hold me in your hands. Dig a hole. Plant something and watch what I can do!”. The sun draws me like a small child to a shiny, new toy. “Hurry! Come out and Play! Soak up all my rays while you still have the chance.”

I just wish I had more time with April. She leaves as quickly as she comes. I have so many things I want to do while she is still here. I’ve made plans. I’ve written them down, set them in stone. I’m ready to go.

The first thing I need to do is break ground and plant this Garden. I need to eat this Winter.My Garden

Then I need to enjoy my time with this hunk of metal, Tractor. Since the middle of March, I have stood by it, leaned up against it, out-and-out lounged on it, and fell off it a time or two. When I look at the Tractor all I see is a piece of cold, steel, machinery. When my son looks at the Tractor all he sees is love. So, what’s a mother to do? I can not keep him from hauling hay or plowing the garden without ever firing the ignition. He has work to do, and I can not stand in his way. I will continue to court the stinking tractor.20120412-192454.jpg

As April continues to march on, I must keep my head above the water and keep swinging. Yes, swinging! It’s all my baby girl wants to do. She is almost five years old and she refuses to swing alone. This means I either swing with her or push her when I’m not with the tractor. Swing or Tractor? Swing or Tractor? Hmm…

April has added so much to my life. Swings, tractors, gardens, and a new baby. Yes, a new baby! A thousand April’s may come and go. Spring will soon turn to summer, summer to fall and fall to winter, but I know I will never forget this April. It is tattooed on my heart and branded on my soul. A memory so strong that no measure of time can erase.

See, I got to witness the business of being born. Being a spectator versus being a participant brings a whole new perspective to the event. I was present in the room when my sister gave birth to her precious baby girl. I was in complete awe of what the human body can stand and produce without breaking. I felt my sister’s pain and I felt her elation. I was traumatized and amazed. I was a bit of an emotional mess!

Anyway, back to the baby girl. She is one of the prettiest babies I have ever laid eyes on. She has a head full of jet black hair and her skin is the color of toffee. She’s an absolute Angel, perfect in every way. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes and one slice of heaven here on Earth.My niece, Kynlee Addison

Kynlee Addison

April 9, 2012

6 lbs & 10 ozs

Categories: Life | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Into the Mystic

Posted on April 8, 2012 by Life and all things love

I sat on my back porch swing, the wind barely a whisper, as I take a trip into The Mystic with Mr.Van Morrison.

We were born before the wind
Also Younger than the sun
Ere th Bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the Mystic

I lay back and take in all Spring has to offer. The Dogwood’s blooming white crescent moons, dandelions spreading like wildfire, and cricket’s singing me a sweet lullaby into the baby blue sky. I am in harmony with everything around me.

I let my mind wander. My thoughts scatter and run. They head straight for my childhood.

I am six-years-old riding my pink, Barbie Bike down a gravel road, dust flying everywhere. I am wading in a creek with my cousins, looking for crawldads, the cold water lapping my bare legs. I am in the hills, I grab hold of a grapevine, close my eyes, and take off swinging, cutting thru the sky. I am flying high. I am as light as a feather. I am free.

And when the foghorn blows I will be coming home
And when the foghorn blows I want to hear it
I don’t have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And together we will float into the mystic..

Thank you, Mr. Morrison for the ride..

Categories: Life, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Sunday Morning Torture and Conviction…

Posted on April 1, 2012 by Life and all things love

Tick, Tock! Tick, Tock! Why is it not 12 O’Clock?

My clothes are worn and wrinkled. My hair is frazzled and fried. I have been hit, slapped, and bit. I have been choked and strangled. I have been pinched and punched.

Tension surges thru my veins. Frustration constricts my airways. Irritation causes me to SNAP! I could explode at any minute, putting Mount St. Helen’s to utter shame.

I feel like a prisoner of war, chained and confined to a torture chamber, but I am not. I am merely a church member, trying to occupy her pew, against the devil and her children’s wishes.

I knew church would be bad. I just knew it. My husband is out-of-town leaving me to fend for myself. My children know they have me out numbered, and they play on my weaknesses. They feed off my insecurities. I was defeated and depleted, long before I ever backed my car out of the garage, and headed for church.

It crossed my mind a time or two, just to sit this one out. “Give in and give up,” I told myself. “You are wasting your time, you know your children will act awful.” I couldn’t wave my white flag of surrender before the battle even begun, could I?

Twenty minutes into church, if I would have had a white flag, I would have scaled the sanctuary, and hung it from the steeple. I wanted to stand up during worship service, pat my hair down, and straighten my skirt. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, “I am sorry, so sorry that I played the lottery this week. I feel like I sold my soul for three measly dollars and the worst part is, I didn’t even win. Lord, forgive me. I am sorry, so sorry that I can not control my children. They are wild, wilder than screaming banshees that can not be caged. And, I am so very sorry that we have turned your worship service into a three-ring circus. If you will excuse us now, we are leaving.” Tick, Tock! Tick, Tock! It’s twelve O’clock! Luckily, the clock saved the congregation from the ravings of a Mad Mother Church Goer!

We gather our things and head for the door. A real live police officer from the church helps me secure my son in his car seat. He just laughs, Officer Ryan has had a lot of training in dealing with unruly boys, but me not so much. I buckle my Lauryn’s seatbelt and then I buckle my own. I put the car in drive and pull out so fast I almost leave black marks. When I can see the church in my rear view mirror, I feel myself relax. I let out a huge sigh of relief, and I Thank God for letting me make it thru one more service. I could have let the Devil win and stayed at home, but I did not. I went. I fought. I won! Amen!

Categories: Life, Mommy Tales | Tags: , , , | 5 Comments

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